"Hey! Hey!" said Lieutenant Crashaw, laughing. "C-close with her, young Venner! Strike for the k-king!"
Merrylips blinked and swallowed hard, for the blow had not been a light one.
"I am—a gentleman," she answered jerkily. "I may not strike—a girl."
She turned away and sat down on a bench by the tavern door. Presently she picked up a bit of stick and marked with it in the dirt at her feet.
In this fashion she was busied, when she heard a step beside her. She looked up, and found the lieutenant standing over her. She saw, too, that Munn was gone, and Stephen with him, and she felt afraid, but she tried not to show it.
"So thou art too good a g-gentleman to strike a g-girl, eh?" said Lieutenant Crashaw.
Merrylips stood up civilly when he spoke.
"Ay, sir," she said, and looked him full in the face.
"And too young a g-gentleman yet to k-kiss a girl, I take it?" the lieutenant laughed, and then he looked sober and half-ashamed.
"Thou hast r-ridden far," he said, in a kind voice. "Art hungry, b-belike?"